July 18, 2013

No Compromises.

You know, there a lot of people on this planet who should consider themselves fucking lucky that some alien super-race doesn’t land outside my door and make me the god of all humans.

If they came down tomorrow, and if tomorrow was exactly five years (1,825 days) since I last saw my kids, I’d just wave my hand and EVERYONE involved in that, which includes all the legal types, all the social worker types, all the police types, all the hangers on at the public purse types, which when you add it all up is getting on for 100 people (follow the fucking money, ever wondered why this whole system is so pernicious to those who can generate wealth, men…) would be put in iron cages 48 inches a side, suspended 10 feet off the ground above the roadway like lamp posts, and simply left their to their own devices for 3,650 days… I figure, if anyone gives a fuck about them then they will feed and clothe them, maybe hold an umbrella up when it’s raining… if not, well, that’s too bad.

Of course, this shit happened in the past in human history, it happened enough that this image is something we have all come across before as a depiction of some sort.

If you think it is not coming again at some point you are a fool, because all it takes to do this to other human beings is to remove their humanity, make them less than human, which is exactly what we are doing now with vast swathes of human society, we are branding them as “other” and immediately suspending all thoughts of equality or rights or fairness or justice.

Not being made into God over humanity by an alien super race, what is left to me is to be God over one life, my own, and this is eminently doable. (just don’t confuse the two, waving your hands and getting a fat job for no work is the former, cutting your cloth according to your means and being an ascetic in preference to selling your soul to the company store is the latter)

I am no megalomaniac, not even in my own life, but there is no point being god of yourself if you don’t get to call the shots in your own life…

Which is why I say no compromises.

None, not even little ones, not even tiny ones, not even minute ones, not even infinitesimal ones.

For a bitch to be with me is like it used to be when you worked abroad back in the day, if you wanted to stay there you obeyed the rules, if you broke the rules you got escorted to the airport and your ass was history, no discussion. Your visa was revoked. For life.

There was always another white man eager enough to take your fucking place, so the country in question never missed you.

You could act like a complete cunt in the privacy of one of the white men’s clubs, but god help you if you acted that way in public and let the side down… your ass was grass.

Back in the day just after the war if you were a bachelor you were expected to share a house with another bachelor, and each house was allowed two servants, one cook general laundry, and one general housekeeper, so it was “acceptable” if these two bachelors chose two young local girls to fulfil these roles.

If you were married then at all social events, no exception, the wife was expected to dress properly, which meant amongst other things white gloves… if she was seen slightly drunk or minus her gloves, the general manager would pull you over and send you home, with a warning…

If she did not want to behave and it became a trend, the GM would call you in and hand you a ticket, one way, back to your country of origin, for the wife, take your pick, your wife or your job. No discussion. No compromise.

I can remember being in Africa, I was a boy at the time, this guys fiancée was apparently raped by a few black guys, nowadays I’ll question if it was rape or she got caught pulling a train of black cock, but either way his reaction was priceless.

He refused to speak to her or be with her or be near her ever again.

At the time, as a blue bill boy, I didn’t get it, I thought he was a cruel sonofabitch.

Now as an older man I do, she was ruined for life, and yes, she could have avoided being raped, if indeed that is what it was, by acting as women were expected to act, and not acting as a man and finding she didn’t have the wherewithal when the rubber met the road… and I remember him not being *able* to talk about her either, that pain was enough he could only lock it down and away.

No compromises.

No compromises is just another way of saying “A man who has chosen to become the God of his own life”

Yes, there is a personal cost, the guys sending the wife back home, the guy walking away from his future bride, but they eat the pain and stuck with the No Compromises.

It occurs to me that without fucking exception, every single man I have ever met who I admired, aspired to be the God of his own life.

It occurs to me that when you start looking at men in history who are admired, they also aspired to be the God of their own lives.

George Loveless knew all about that shit, he may not have been right, you may not agree with a word he said, but you have to admire the man’s integrity.